Kissing the Player - Maggie Dallen Page 0,40

need to give someone else a ride?” I prayed he couldn’t hear the note of desperation that had slipped through. I couldn’t do a battle of wits right now. I couldn’t pretend.

Please don’t make me drive alone with this guy.

“Didn’t you come here with someone?” I asked.

He shot me a sidelong look. “I came here with you, remember? You were my date…or so I thought.” His confusion was totally feigned. He was so not a good actor. “Weren’t we supposed to be here together?”

He knew as well as I did that I hadn’t considered this a date. He might have been fooled before, but I’d shown my cards back there in the woods.

Which was fine. I was done with acting.

Hannah’s advice was hitting home. He couldn’t win if I didn’t play. I might not get revenge, but he wouldn’t get his payday so…that was something.

He was waiting for a response so I shot him a glare. “You know what I meant.”

His short laugh held no amusement, just disdain. “Yeah, I knew what you meant. I gave Simone a ride here but she’s sleeping over at one of her friend’s houses tonight so…” He held his arms out wide. “I’m all yours.”

“Lucky me.” I muttered it under my breath, but I knew he’d heard me.

12

Two Years Ago: The Beginning of the End

Rose

A wad of condoms landed on my vanity as I finished getting ready for tonight’s date with Jax. I stared at them in horror, mainly because of who’d just tossed them my way. “What’s this?”

My mother hovered in the doorway, a glass of wine in her hand, despite the fact that we hadn’t even had dinner yet. She’d been day drinking for the last three days, ever since the latest boyfriend dumped her for someone younger.

She winked when I looked her way, but there was no amusement in her smile. Only mockery. “In case you get lucky.”

Ugh.

Leave it to my mom to ruin the giddy excitement I’d been reveling in as I got ready for tonight. Our first date.

Well, our first real date.

The first time it was just going to be me and Jax out on the town.

Well, not exactly out on the town. But we were going to the diner. Together. We’d arrive together—like a real couple. And then we’d go to the party that Ryan was telling us about at school the other day.

My head was still spinning from our kiss the other night and I’d been dying to see him again ever since.

Especially because… No, I wouldn’t worry about it. Not tonight.

Sure, he’d been a little standoffish in his texts this weekend, but texts were texts. Hannah had made an excellent point that it was useless to try and read tone in a text.

Even so…

“What’s wrong?” My mom’s voice jarred me out of my worries. I hadn’t even realized she was still standing in my doorway—the freakin’ wino harbinger of doom.

“Nothing.”

“Pshh.” She made a scoffing sound that was filled with disdain. “You two lovebirds breaking up already? That’s a record…even for you.”

I glared at her. I didn’t even know what that meant.

Didn’t matter.

I turned back to the mirror to curl my hair, ignoring the condoms.

“Good,” she said. “It’s for the best. You’re too young to have a guy distract you from your plans.”

I ignored her. She was always mean when she drank and it was clear she was just now warming up to her topic. She waved her glass, and I cringed as I watched the red liquid slosh dangerously. “There’s no way I’d let a boy like that ruin your future. Now if it was a boy from a good family, from the nice area of town…” She let out a cackle at her own joke.

Which wasn’t really a joke.

Which made it that much more depressing.

She was already on me to land a rich boy, as if I wanted to land any boy.

Except maybe Jax.

I froze for so long that the sizzle and smoke from the curling iron jolted me back to the present and I tore it away from my scalp before I burnt off a freakin’ lock of hair.

My mom was still talking, but I didn’t hear her. I was used to tuning her out when she was in a post-breakup slump. She got nastier than usual and much as I didn’t love her digs about my weight and my complexion, that was nothing compared to the pity I felt.

There was nothing worse than pitying your own mom, but I couldn’t help it. She